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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939992">At the Beginning of Winter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kentucka/pseuds/kentucka'>kentucka</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, POV Eskel (The Witcher), Porn with Feelings, Short &amp; Sweet, Soft Eskel (The Witcher), Soft Lambert (The Witcher), Winter At Kaer Morhen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:55:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>542</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939992</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kentucka/pseuds/kentucka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lambert is the kind of guy who will yell back insults nastier than get hurled his way for being a witcher. Arriving in Kaer Morhen for the winter, Eskel tries to remind him that he has people in his corner, too.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>At the Beginning of Winter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This started off with a prompt I ran across on tumblr: "I was born to press my head between your shoulder blades" which is a line from Fair by The Amazing Devil. I thought that would be nice for a little bit of smut. And then, as seems par for the course when I write these men, feels happened.</p>
<p>The usual apologies apply: I have only consumed Netflix canon, and this work is based largely on characterizations I found in the wonderful and inspiring fic here on AO3.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eskel lets Lambert have this, at the beginning of winter.</p>
<p>Six savaeds long, their youngest wolf grumbles and gripes and refuses to accept his lot quietly. Fights tooth and nail for his place in this world. Claws back a modicum of respect for himself as a person. Eskel admires that about him.</p>
<p>When winter comes around, and they hug just two steps inside the great hall of Kaer Morhen, just out of the biting cold winds, icy fingers winding underneath heavy fur coats to actually feel the shape of each other, when Eskel can take the first deep breath and unwind, Lambert is still bristly.</p>
<p>Eskel treads lightly, during those first weeks, and forgives the vitriol of Lambert’s short temper. Pulls the man into his bulk, lets him complain about being made to feel small. Lambert quickly gives up the pretense anyhow, and slides off Eskel’s soft linen clothing for which the signature red armor was traded in. Manhandles him until he spoons Eskel on the wide bed.</p>
<p>At the beginning of winter, Lambert still digs his fingers in, bares his teeth. Eskel meets him with all the tenderness he knows to give. Smoothes his palms up and down Lambert’s thigh, where it slots behind his, and yields to the grip in his hair.</p>
<p>It never takes Lambert long to remember: he is home. In the ruins of Kaer Morhen, in this book-laden room, in Eskel’s body-warm bed, he is loved exactly as he is.</p>
<p>But until then, Eskel only sighs and lets himself be spread. Be pulled back by his hips. Pushed around because it makes Lambert moan without abandon when he gets to control the larger man. By the time Imbolc rolls around, and with it the harshest days of the season, Lambert’s rough edges have dulled under Eskel’s caresses and he is able to enjoy Eskel’s superior strength aimed against him, once more, not just under him.</p>
<p>Geralt hasn’t even arrived yet, this year, and already hair tickles between Eskel’s shoulder blades, followed by a lick up the top of his spine. Eskel whines, yearning for a kiss that may still take days. Instead he rolls his hips back, takes Lambert’s hand off his waist and laces their fingers, wrapping them around his erection.</p>
<p>Eskel’s breath hitches. “Yes, yes please, Lambert.”</p>
<p>There’s no smart-ass reply now. Just deep huffs against Eskel’s ear, an obliging twist to the stroke of their combined hands, and the persistent snap of Lambert’s hips that steadily gain speed.</p>
<p>Eskel’s body starts to draw tight.</p>
<p>“I missed you,” Lambert whispers. Sets his lips against Eskel’s pulse.</p>
<p>The orgasm is shocked out of Eskel, molten steel pouring through his veins, leaving him shaking. Distantly, he notices that Lambert spilled as well, yet surprisingly the man makes no move to disentangle from Eskel’s body.</p>
<p>As it becomes clear that it isn’t just Lambert’s need for a moment to collect himself but that he’ll happily stay where he is for a while longer, Eskel shifts their entwined hands from his softening cock to curl over his chest. After the heat of the fireplace and the swelter of their activities, a new kind of warmth suffuses him in Lambert’s embrace.</p>
<p>“I missed you too,” he replies, just as softly.</p>
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